Looking
by Mitsima
Summary: A practice in monologues, for the most part. The second chapter (Kubota) was written by me...let's just say I tried, while a friend of mine wrote the first chapter (Tokitoh)...very nice. Short n' sweet.
1. DependenceWithdrawal

Hi! Just a couple of notes: the text within /.../ is  
  
subconscious thought, and the text within (...) is,  
  
well, less subconcious thought. ^_^;; Anyways, hope  
  
you like it!  
  
~Kary  
  
---------------------  
  
Dependence/Withdrawal  
  
/"This is your heaven, so if you die, I will kill  
  
you."/  
  
It's fucking cold out, and Kubo-chan's late.  
  
I pull my jacket tighter around me. My breath makes  
  
darkened wisps in the air, snaking up towards the sky  
  
before disappearing. Damn smoke-breath. It's like my  
  
damn memory--dark and cloudy and completely  
  
untouchable. Try to grab it, and it dissipates like  
  
Kubo-chan's smoke into no more than a stink in the  
  
air.  
  
It's seriously weird shit, I tell you. And it's  
  
fucking cold out.  
  
The shower's sometimes like the cold. When I'm alone  
  
and when the steam rises it's like part of me  
  
disappears, melts into the steam and rises up with it,  
  
only to get sucked away by the fan. But the shower's  
  
better than the cold, 'cause sometimes things come out  
  
of its steamy smoke, like Kubo-chan doing the damn  
  
laundry. And when that happens I like the shower,  
  
'cause though I can't catch my old memories, new ones  
  
come up to fill my head instead. Like...  
  
(...sweltering heat. I can feel his hands. His breath  
  
tickles the back of my neck. So close. It's so hot...)  
  
Dammit. Where is he? (I want...)  
  
/At first it was just a bright room and a warm bed.  
  
Soft clothes. Curry and a dry place to sleep. But  
  
later, it was a body to hold onto at night. Warmth to  
  
curl up with in the dark. A reminder that I'm still  
  
here, and that even if I can't find my past I've found  
  
something.  
  
Kubo-chan, I am what you've made me. You're all that I  
  
remember./  
  
The wind picks up, gagging me with my scarf. It's even  
  
colder than it was before.  
  
(You said: "Dying is an art, and I'd do it  
  
exceptionally well. I'd do it to feel real."  
  
Kubo-chan...  
  
Don't you dare. If you do it I'll damn well kill you.)  
  
Damn. Kubo-chan, where the hell are you?  
  
---------------------  
  
Author's note: Apologies to Sylvia Plath for taking  
  
and distorting one of her lines and to Minekura for  
  
taking and distorting one of her characters... O_o 


	2. Hazy Stars

Note from author:  
  
Honestly, I tried not to break the flow of Kary's original story.  
  
Then again, now that I look, the difference is obvious. Oh well,  
  
we're two different people. Kubota and Tokitoh are different people,  
  
so there. It works...sort of...I guess. It's not much, but feel free  
  
to comment and/or criticze.  
  
Here it is. Enjoy!  
  
Hazy Stars (Kubota)  
  
(Sequel to Dependence/Withdrawal by Kary)  
  
by: Ame  
  
//A castle in the stillness only for you...//  
  
It's a nice night tonight. Pretty, a bit cool, but pretty. The city's  
  
half in darkness. Blackout. Very empty. And I like it. A star here. A  
  
star there. (At least I think they're stars) No longer flooded out by  
  
the city lights. Simple, but far- just like every living thing  
  
in this world. Everyone and everything is just simply...distant.  
  
That's why its so easy to kill people. No one mourns a supernova  
  
light years away, no matter how bright. One less star to wish from,  
  
but then again, pick another.  
  
Now, if the sun suddenly explodes, that's a different problem  
  
altogether. No thinking required, you're dead. Or better yet, you  
  
never existed.  
  
Nobody's around. Not surprising, especially in this neck of the woods  
  
at this ungodly hour. My footsteps echo on the pavement, still a bit  
  
wet from yesterday's rain. I can't see shit. I sometimes have to take  
  
my glasses off when I read, or else they bug me. But what's even  
  
worse is when you take them off, walk out of the bookstore at closing  
  
hour, then realize ten minutes too late that the damn lenses are  
  
still propped up on the New Fiction shelf.  
  
I remember all right (not that it really makes a difference) - right  
  
between 'A Heartbreaking Work of a Staggering Genius' (Heh, I almost  
  
bought it because of the title)and the strangely misplaced 'Astrology  
  
for Idiots.' I'm a Libra, by the way...  
  
Oh come on, admit it. It's hard to resist looking yourself up  
  
whenever the opportunity arises. What do you think those Chinese  
  
restaurant place mats are for, anyway? Diversion. Time killing.  
  
Fate's had it in for me from the very beginning. Blind justice.  
  
Honestly, I should have been home well over an hour ago. But the  
  
going's been slow. Tokitoh's gonna...I swear though, he thinks I'm an  
  
angel or something so good like that- taking him in, giving him food,  
  
my clothes, my bed, me...  
  
I smile, almost idiotically. Maybe I'm not so much an angel when it  
  
comes to things like that. He likes it too. But to be frank,  
  
sometimes I feel like I'm time-sharing a halo.  
  
No long term benefits, though the short term ones are pretty  
  
gratifying.  
  
At least somebody's home when I get there. Somebody says my name.  
  
Somebody complains. Somebody pouts. Somebody kisses me where I like  
  
to be kissed. Somebody with no other reason for anything but me. God,  
  
you'd think I was sunlight or something.  
  
So, here I am, ambling along through this myopic blackness. Tripping  
  
here, almost slipping there. How long have I been wandering? Now that  
  
I think about it, it really is pretty damn cold.  
  
The wind rips like a ghost through these empty streets, but the  
  
night's still nice. Then there's the promise of getting home and  
  
sleeping. An even nicer thought.  
  
Two blocks up. Past the sign post. Turn left. Pass two alleys, right  
  
at the convenience store, then forward. At this point, I could close  
  
my eyes. The streets by now are all too familiar. But I look skywards  
  
instead.  
  
Was that a shooting star? What should I wish for, hm?  
  
"Kubo-chan! Where the hell were you?!"  
  
//I guess you could say I've a call...to the same place, the same  
  
face...//  
  
(Note: Same author quoted by the way.) 


End file.
